The giant continued, “If you wish to speak to me, then swell out your feeble voices, my dwarfs.”
“Mercy upon us, if thou art the god of this river,” replied Atuix, “and if thou art not a god, then let a poor bard of Ogmius pass unmolested.”
“O terrible giant, let us pass in the name of the great Hesus of Teutates, and of all the gods.”
“Oh, thou dost jest, I think,” said the giant in a ferocious tone. “I laugh at Hesus, seest thou? and at all thy gods!—and if thou hast seen them, is their stature no higher than yours, fine race of weaklings, of whom I could trample a whole army under my feet? Ah! thy gods, I should long ere this have taken them from their heaven for my evening’s amusement on the lonely shore, or to make a repast of, if they were anything more than vain smoke!”
“Who, then, art thou,” said Atuix, “thou who laughest at the gods?”
“Who am I?—Where is Antigon? Ah! thou wouldst dissemble with Antigon!—Yes, thou forgettest the tribute of oxen thou owest me for passing on my river—thou didst think, favoured by the darkness, to deceive me, and now thou wouldst use thy childish tricks! Ah! Ah!” And the giant covered Atuix with his powerful hand before he could move a limb.
Frega, who had remained motionless with terror, threw herself on her knees in the boat. “Mercy, mercy upon Atuix,” she exclaimed. “Oh! mercy! what harm can our passing this river do to thee, we feeble and without any evil intention, he loving me and I loving him? Mercy! Ah, heavens! is there, then, no pity in thy soul?”
The giant interrupted with a terrible sneer: “Oh! my soul, sayst thou! My soul! Where hast thou learnt that I have a soul? Who has ever seen a soul? Oh, I tell thee truly that there are neither souls nor gods, neither mind, nor anything but the body, and hunger!”
As he ended the giant pressed the hand of Atuix between his two iron fingers, the hand fell into the boat with the glaive it grasped. A terrible cry was heard accompanied by a ferocious laugh. The giant picked up the bloody hand and threw it into the river. Then, just as he was about to seize Frega, who had dropped senseless, Atuix freed from the frightful claws which pressed him, with the hand which was left him, picked up the fallen sword and plunged it to the hilt in the giant’s arm. A howl of pain was repeated by the surrounding echoes.